Mending the Cracks
by Cokie316
Summary: This is a sequel to "A Cracked Mind".  McGarrett has a not-so-good weekend.


Last month, I wrote a short story entitled "A Cracked Mind". It was just a piece of silly fluff that revolved around a joke I had heard, but several people commented that they wanted to read a sequel, so here it be. This really will make **_no_** sense without reading "A Cracked Mind" first ...unfortunately even after reading the other one, it still may not make sense!

Oh, I petitioned CBS to purchase the characters, but it seems they have had many offers before mine. So, I still don't own them. Bummer.

I didn't like the formatting on this, so I came back in to change it. Also, I need to thank my friend, Rowena, for the idea for a portion of the story.

**"**_**Mending the Cracks"**_

_**a sequel to "A Cracked Mind"**_

_**By Cokie**_

_Danny was in Jersey, sitting at the round table in the corner of Borromeo's Pizzeria, his friends at the 89th seated around him. The leftovers of the two pizzas they had consumed were in the middle of the table. Good company, good pizza…and thankfully, not a pineapple in sight. He was laughing along with everyone else when he heard the noise…which sounded like someone throwing up...an occurrence that just didn't happen at Borromeo's. He turned his head toward the offending racket, and his eyes focused on his partner_…_who was supposed to be in Hawaii_. _Wait just a minute..._

"McGarrett!"

Danny came quickly awake, searching for the handle to lift the Lazy-boy into a sitting position, not taking his eyes off his friend, who was once again seated on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Looking miserable, head down and with both arms wrapped around the garbage can setting in his lap.

"Oh, God. Think I'm gonna die."

Williams reached his partner's side. "You're not dying. Trust me."

"Yeah? My barf is green and smells like beer." With that proclamation, he proved his point by upchucking once again. "See? Dying. Where the hell'd we get green beer? It's not St. Pat's Day."

"Those are peas, you Nimnut," Danny replied, his answer prompting another round of puking. Waving his hand in front of his face to counteract the smell, Williams hurried to open the windows to allow fresh air into the room. "I swear, McGarrett, you didn't eat that much. Where's all that coming from?"

He turned around to find his partner passed out once again, head against the couch, mouth open. Williams got as close as necessary and took the trash can, grabbing the plastic liner and closing it before tying it in a knot. He set the package outside the double doors, and then went in search for a new liner in the kitchen…assuming it would be needed in the near future.

He set the trash can next to his partner and returned to his chair, stretching the kinks out of his back before settling back in and turning the TV down low. A few minutes later he heard mumbling once again.

"Say what?"

"What day is this?"

"Sunday morning."

"Ah. Was Sat'day worth it? Please say yes."

"Sorry. No can do." He thought McGarrett had fallen back to sleep until he heard grumbling once again.

"Annapolis. Graduation weekend."

"What? Steven, you really aren't making much sense. Of course, after yesterday I shouldn't be surprised."

"Graduation. Last time I felt this bad. No, take that back. Never felt this bad. Never, ever."

"McGarrett, you're a SEAL…remember? Sleep deprivation, cold water training, torture, sleeping in trees, sleeping under rocks, getting shot, beaten up, did I mention the torture? I hardly think this is the worst you've felt."

"Piece'a cake. This is dying." He groaned. "Where's that can?" He opened one eye and managed to grab the trash can before once again emptying his stomach. "Still green."

"OK, I don't need the commentary on the color of your puke. How do you feel otherwise?"

"I tell you, I'm dying."

"You. Are. Not. Dying."

"And I didn't even have a good time? That stinks."

"No, _**you**__'**re**_ the one who stinks. Trust me."

"Why am I on the floor?"

"Wish the hell I knew. You keep slithering off the couch. Do you remember anything?"

"Since when?"

"Within the last 24 hours?"

He thought. Hard. And then he puked again.

Steve saw the white brace on his left hand and flexed his fingers, turning his wrist to examine the splint. "Are you as hung over as I am?"

Danny got out of the chair and came to sit on the couch near his partner. "Okay, listen up. You're not hung over. Not from alcohol anyway. You were injured yesterday morning and what you are feeling is the after-effects of drugs. The hospital gave you something and then you had a prescription for some pills…and unfortunately the combination sent you on a cosmic trip of major proportions."

"Hospital?"

"Yeah, you banged up your head, wrist and knee."

"How? Don't remember."

"You remember nothing?"

Steve scrubbed his hand through his hair, sending it in every direction but down. "Um…Friday night we had two beers at Side Street. I drove home, flipped through the TV and then went to bed. And I woke up on the couch and its Sunday."

"Okay, let me recap Saturday. You called me on your way to pick me up early yesterday morning. There was a DB at one of the country clubs. It was Juan Gonzalez, one of the drug runners we've been tailing."

"Juan's dead?" _Poor, dead Juan._ Steve shook his head, trying to clear the voice he could have sworn he just heard.

"You gonna puke again?"

McGarrett thought for a moment. "Prob'bly. But not this minute. So, if Juan was already dead, why do I feel like I've been run over by a truck?"

"Maybe because you were run over with a golf cart."

Steve rolled his eyes, and then winced at the pain it caused. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not lying. A kid was driving a cart, hit you, knocked you down, and then drove over you. You're damn lucky he missed vital organs."

"A golf cart?"

"I swear to God."

McGarrett set the trash can aside and eased himself back up onto the couch. "I'm think I'm going to pass out for a while. When I wake up, maybe you'll start making sense."

"Knock yourself out, SuperSEAL."

**H50H50H50**

An hour later, he was once again awake. Danny was in the kitchen making himself a sandwich when he heard grumbling noises from the den. Entering the room, Williams saw his partner clinging onto the sofa arm, standing on one leg, turning the color of paste.

"Whoa…hang on there, Rambo," he yelled, reaching for McGarrett. "I don't think you're ready to be upright just yet."

Steve placed his hand on Danny's shoulder to help balance himself. "Goin' to bathroom."

"Can it wait?"

"That's a no," he argued, placing his injured leg on the floor. It held him upright when he moved his right leg forward, so he felt one hurdle over.

"Well, at least let me help," Danny groused, hooking Steve's arm around his shoulder and placing his arm around the other man's waist.

"What's wrong with my knee?"

"Bruised and cut pretty badly. It was hit full force by the golf cart."

McGarrett stopped mid-stride. "You weren't lying? A golf cart? Really?"

"Abso-frickin-lutely. Even I couldn't make that up."

Steve continued across the floor, thankful that his father had found a niche to carve out and install a bathroom on the first floor. He sighed when they finally reached the doorway and grabbed onto the doorjamb. "Think I can manage it from here."

"I don't—"

"Back off, Danno. I've been doing this by myself for a while."

"If you fall, I'm not picking you up."

"Not falling." The door was slammed in Williams' face.

"Don't lock the—"

He heard the click of the lock and raised both hands in the air, looking upward, pleading "Why me? Why do I have to deal with this moron?"

"I heard that."

"So. It's true." Danny muttered all the way back to the kitchen and began making another sandwich, thinking food might help the grumpies. He grinned. _Just who is the grumpy one, today, huh, Superman?_

He heard running water and walked back to the bathroom door, checking to see if the handle would turn. "Damn it, McGarrett. What the hell are you doing?"

"McGarrett?"

"Steve!" He banged on the door. "Dammit, answer me." He ran back to the kitchen to find something to pick the lock, returning to work the piece of wire into the mechanism while mumbling to himself. _Told you I wasn't picking up your sorry ass from the floor." _He heard the click and opened the door to the steamy room. Danny opened the glass door to the corner shower and quickly turned off the water. McGarrett was leaning against the tile wall, eyes squeezed shut, gasping in air.

"What the hell were you thinking? Huh? He grabbed a towel and swiped it across his partner's face.

Steve panted, trying to get a decent breath. "Just wanted…needed to clear my head."

Danny used the towel once again to catch the water dripping onto McGarrett's face, and then scrubbed it across his chest before grabbing the other man's arm. "Just get out of there. Lean on me." He wrapped the towel around Steve's waist and propped him against the wall, planting his own hand in the other man's chest. "Ya know, most times when I say you're a moron, I'm half kidding. This time, I'm not. You are certifiable. Remember the part where I told you that you had a drug overdose?"

"Huh?"

"When you woke up? You wanted to know why you felt like crap and I told you the hospital over-dosed your sorry ass. That's why you don't remember Saturday. You haven't been up on your feet for 24 hours and you, "Mr.-I-Can-Do-Anything-'cos-I'm-A-SEAL" decide to hop in the shower."

"Don't remember that part."

"Well…remember." Williams calmed down a bit. "What happened in there?" he nodded his head toward the shower stall.

McGarrett slowly shook his head. "The hot water hit me in the face and I don't know… all of a sudden, I just got really sick and dizzy."

"Did you not hear me yelling your name through the _**locked**_ door?"

"Um…maybe. Sort of." He grinned rather sheepishly. "I think I kind of, sort of passed out for a minute after I threw up."

"Kind of, sort of. Like I said, certifiable. Wait a minute. You threw up again in the shower? That's just gross."

"It's my shower; I can throw up in it. Not that I really wanted to."

"Come on, let's go so you can lay back down. Where do you keep your clothes? Now I get to go rummage through your closet."

"I'm okay now," Steve assured him, pushing away from the wall. "The knee feels pretty good, and look," he wriggled his wrist, "this doesn't hurt either."

"Doc said to wear that splint for a week."

_I look like Michael Jackson. _ Where the hell did _**that**_ come from? "Nah. Don't need it." McGarrett knotted the towel tighter around his waist and padded across the floor toward the stairs.

"Just where the hell—"

Steve stopped on the first step. "I'm going upstairs to put on some clothes." Second step. "I'm fine." Third step. "I will be careful." He reached the small landing and stopped again. "And I'll hold onto the banister. " He gave Williams a mock salute and disappeared up the stairs, somewhat slower than normal, but under his own steam.

Danny finished making the second sandwich and decided to be a mother hen and check on his partner. He found him upstairs, crossways on the bed, face down, still wrapped in the towel. And sound asleep. He grinned to himself. "Wuss."

Williams went back downstairs, ate his lunch, wrapped the second sandwich and placed it in the refrigerator, then composed a note to McGarrett before going upstairs. Once he was sure his partner was still alive and breathing, he left his note, locked the front door and left the house.

**H50H50H50**

Steve woke up, groggily, wondering why he was face down, sideways in his bed. Raising his head, he glanced at the clock noting that it was mid-afternoon. His cell phone and a note were on the bed next to him.

_Call me when you are conscious. Lunch is in the fridge. _

_Don't do anything stupid. And call me. D._

"Stevie, you awake?"

"Mhmm Hmm. Thanks for the food." He talked into the phone while taking another bite.

"You're welcome. How do you feel?"

"I'm good. Hungry."

"You should be. Didn't have much yesterday."

"Yeah, did you say peas? With beer?"

"Yep, frozen peas by the handful. In fact, several hand fulls."

Danny heard a plop through the phone. "Think I'm done with my sandwich now. Did I do anything else yesterday that you need to tell me about?"

"Why? Are you remembering anything?"

"Total blank. Which is pretty nerve-wracking."

"Well, you mostly slept, although I have to admit you did say some pretty goofy things. But don't worry, you didn't reveal any secrets from Naval Intelligence. I don't think they'll come looking for you."

"That's a relief. I'll see you in the morning."

"Hey, I'll pick you up. The doc said the symptoms should all have worn off by now, but you probably shouldn't drive until you see him again."

"I'm not going back to the doctor. The knee is sore, but okay. Wrist and head are fine."

"The appointment is tomorrow at three. And you're gonna be there."

"Danny—"

"Steven. Three o'clock. No arguing."

Steve huffed into the phone. "Fine. See you in the morning."

"Get some rest, Sunshine."

"_**Goodbye, Danno."**_

**H50H50H50**_**  
**_

Morning came sooner than expected when Williams got an early wake-up call from HPD that Juan's partners were in the marina attempting to charter a boat. He had depressed the end button on the call when his phone rang once again. Governor Jameson had received the same intel and was tactfully urging him to get these men before they left the island. In no uncertain terms, she mentioned that Lieutenant Commander McGarrett needed to stay out of the field, pending a medical release that afternoon. Williams was okay with that…he had no problem being lead on the case and would simply neglect to pick up his partner on his way to headquarters.

Which seemed like a smart plan…

Williams entered the office bullpen to find McGarrett leaning against the computer board in deep conversation with Chin Ho.

"Whoa, whoa. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Huh? Last I checked I still work here. I was up early, so decided to come on in. Chin is getting me up to speed. Kono's meeting us at the marina, so let's gear up and go."

"Hold it, Rambo. You've been sidelined. Governor's orders."

McGarrett grabbed his vest and extra clips from the shelf and headed for the glass door. "Yeah, right."

"STEVEN? I'm serious. Jameson said you were to stay behind, pending a medical release."

"Not going to happen, Danno. Now, are you coming or not? Either you drive or I'll follow you in my truck. Which is it?"

Williams huffed, but grabbed his gear and followed them to the parking lot. Knowing that the morning would only end in some sort of disaster.

**H50H50H50**

"Well, there's good news and there's bad news." Danny was in his office, seated at his desk, head in his hands, practicing what he planned to tell the governor. The good news was that the drug runners had been caught while their rented boat was still at the marina. Both were now in custody.

And the bad news...

Danny looked out into the bullpen area, watching as Kono pushed McGarrett down into a chair when he tried to get up. His left leg was stretched out on a second chair, and now sported a new, white brace from above his knee down to his ankle. She picked up the ice pack once again and none-so-gently plopped it back down on his knee, pointing her finger in his face while reading him the riot act.

Williams grinned, knowing that Kono wasn't going to let up anytime soon in her rant. He reached for his phone and hit speed dial to call the governor. "Might as well get this over with," he mumbled. Glancing up, he watched the glass door to their offices open and heard the staccato beat of heels on the marble floor. He threw the phone on the desk, no longer needing to make the call.

Danny jumped to his feet and met Governor Jameson just as she arrived in the bullpen.

"Ma'am," he began.

She nodded to him, all her attention on the commander who tried once again to stand.

And as before, Kono shoved him back onto the chair. "I told you to sit," the rookie warned, reaching again for the ice pack.

"Hello, Governor," McGarrett told her, offering his most winning smile.

"Commander. Did you re-injure your leg here in the office this morning?"

"Ah, no ma'am. I was—"

"I heard what you were doing. It is called 'disobeying a direct order'." She turned to Danny. "I assume you told him he was staying in the office?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"No buts, Detective."

"Ma'am, it wasn't Danny's fault."

Both Chin and Kono moved to the other end of the table, waiting to see the sparks fly. The governor had met with the team several times, but they had never seen her as steamed as she was now, standing with her arms crossed and foot tapping the floor.

"I know whose fault it is, Commander. And had you followed my orders, you wouldn't be wearing that thing on your leg right now."

"It's no big deal. The doctor—"

"I wasn't finished, Steven."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you not know the risk you were taking today? I understand you had a very interesting weekend and the doctor wanted to ensure that you were fit for duty. First, it is my understanding that you drove yourself here this morning."

Steve looked accusingly at Danny who held up both hands. "Not from me," he assured his partner.

"Commander, this is a small island. I have people who talk to me, so don't go blaming your team for ratting you out. But after driving without medical permission, you then proceeded to go off half cocked and take a flying leap off the dock to tackle a suspect on a boat. And land yourself right back in the emergency room."

"But I—"

She glared at him and held up one hand to halt his excuses. He quickly shut up.

She motioned to the other team members. "These people not only rely on you for leadership, but they also care about you. I'm sure they would appreciate a little less drama. I know Danny spent the weekend making sure you were all right after Saturday's fiasco."

"I was fine. All I did was sleep."

"Really," she asked, glancing at Williams. "You just slept. Do you remember Saturday?"

"Well…not exactly. But I slept off the effects of the painkillers and woke up yesterday feeling fine. It wasn't a big deal."

"No big deal," she repeated. "And you don't remember anything?"

He shrugged. "What's to remember? I slept. Well, I drank a beer and got sick yesterday morning, but that's all. It's not like I was a raving lunatic or anything."

Governor Jameson cut a glance in Williams' direction, trying to contain the smile that begged to appear on her face. Danny took one look at her and suddenly found his shoes to be extremely interesting. Their furtive looks were not lost on one of the Navy's finest.

"What? What's going on?" McGarrett demanded, hand on the table, ready to pull himself up. With a look in Kono's direction, he quickly sat back down with a huff. "Danny, you said I slept on Saturday. What _**didn't**_ you tell me?"

"If you recall, I said that you said some goofy things."

"Like?"

"When's the last time you played 'Spin the Bottle', Commander?" Jameson asked with a sly grin and another glance at Danny.

"I beg your pardon?" _Want to play spin the bottle with me? Danny won't play. _He shook his head, trying to clear the unspoken words from his mind. "Why did you ask that? I don't understand."

Chin looked at Kono, neither of them understanding where the governor's conversation was headed. Kono shrugged her shoulders and turned back so she wouldn't miss anything.

"Danny, would you care to share your phone with Steve?"

Williams looked at her before finally breaking into a grin. "Yes, ma'am. If you insist." He went back to his office to retrieve his phone from the desk. Returning, he set it down on the computer table. "Chin, there are a couple of videos we need to view."

"Danny, what—"

Jameson put both hands on McGarrett's shoulders to pin him down and pointed to the overhead screens. "Could the three of you excuse us for a few moments, please? I want to share this with the commander. Mr. Kelly, can you show me how to get something up there on the screen?"

"Yes, ma'am. This button here. Flick your wrist and the image will fly."

"Thank you. Now if you could excuse us." She waited until they were in Danny's office with the door closed. Now…just watch this, Steve. You might be surprised at your 'no big deal' weekend."

She flicked her wrist and watched the screen as McGarrett tried to balance a beer bottle on his nose. She smiled at the memory; _**he**_ watched in horror, vague recollections haunting him.

"You…you were there," he accused, glancing at her and then quickly averting his eyes as she called up the second short video.

"_Hi, Pat….beer's in the fridge, bring me one. Hey, you wanna play spin the bottle?"_

He tried to slither down into his chair, one hand covering his eyes. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could slide under the table.

Jameson reached out and patted him on the shoulder then rolled a chair close to sit next to him. "See why I was worried about you? Sometimes maybe you aren't the best judge of what you need."

"Ma'am, I'm sor—"

"Don't you dare try to apologize, Steve. This wasn't your fault. In fact, I've taken the hospital to task regarding the overdose. I expect a full report from the doctor and everyone involved. This should never have happened. But I wanted _**you**_ to understand that sometimes you aren't the expert on what you can and cannot do. Or what you need, for that matter. Now, this conversation is closed and I don't want to discuss it again. But I do need to know what the doctor in the ER said."

McGarrett quietly reported, "Wear the brace for a week, then go back and see him."

She nodded. "As your superior, I am ordering you off field duty until your next doctor visit. You can come to work, but only office work…sitting either here or at your desk. If I find out you have done otherwise, I will personally drive you home and hire someone to keep you there. Do we understand each other?"

He bit the inside of his lip and nodded.

"Steve?"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand. Now can we get rid of those?" he asked, waving a hand toward the screen.

She laughed. "Sorry, those are Danny's. You need to talk to him about that." She waved to Williams and motioned for the three of them to come back in.

"Team, thank you for your work today. I'll see myself out."

The three team members waited for the explosion called McGarrett. Danny had filled them in on what had happened on Saturday and while they wanted desperately to see the videos, they were surprised he hadn't already destroyed the evidence, along with Danny's phone.

Steve took a deep breath and glared at Williams. "You lied to me."

Danny shook his head. "I didn't lie. You asked about Saturday and I said you mostly slept, but acted a little goofy. That was by no means a lie."

"You videoed me…and showed the governor."

Willliams grinned. "Well, yes, I did do that." He watched as Chin covertly touched the large computer screen and then removed his cell phone from the table. "And I am not one bit ashamed of it. And in my defense, there was a lot I could have videoed and didn't. But after the governor arrived, I couldn't help myself."

Steve rubbed both hands down his face. "Care to fill me in on what else I did while she was there?"

"Not much. You proudly showed her the brace on your wrist and she told you it made you look like Michael Jackson. You seemed to take great pleasure in that."

The voice in his head was back. _Want to see me dance?_ "Oh, God. Tell me I didn't dance."

"What?" Kono asked, laughing.

"You didn't dance," Danny assured him. "At the time, you were on the floor…where you seemed to spend much of your time. You kept sliding off the couch."

"I now remember eating the bag of peas."

"Oh, Brah, you must have been totally wasted. Danny, I can't believe you didn't call us."

Williams shrugged. "I started to, but then I thought I would preserve what dignity SuperSEAL here had and not share Saturday with anyone."

"Except the governor," Kono added.

"Hey, _**she**_ came over to see what was going on. I did not invite her," he assured his partner. "Really, I didn't."

"Didn't keep you from making a video with her in it, did it?"

"I'm sorry." Danny tried hard to keep a straight face, but he could only hold back his snicker for so long.

"You're not."

He laughed once again. "No, really I'm not. I was planning to use it at a much later time before she asked me to play it today." He pointed at Steve. "And you saw, that was all her, not me. I wouldn't have done that."

"Okay, time out," Kono said. "I'm dying here. Can we please see the video?" She sat in the chair next to McGarrett and pleaded, "Please, Boss, just let me see."

He glared at her, knowing she wouldn't let it go. Finally he growled, "Danny, give Chin your phone. But if _**any**_ of this gets out of this room, I swear I will make you pay."

Once again, the large screens filled with the commander attempting to balance the beer bottle on his nose. Even the stoic Chin Ho was unable to contain his laughter and finally McGarrett himself even cracked a smile before Chin switched the video to him asking "Pat" for a beer.

"I can't believe I said that to her," Steve muttered. "If that doctor goes missing, I'm sure I'll have a good alibi. What the hell did he give me, anyway?"

"Way too much of something, Brah," Chin replied, removing the pictures from the screen. "You were way too happy."

"I don't think I've laughed this hard in years," Kono admitted, wiping tears from her eyes. She turned to her boss. "Thank you for sharing."

"So glad I can be your entertainment." He tried the gruff, bad-ass SEAL voice but failed miserably when the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin. He reached for Danny's phone on the table and passed it to his partner. "Now…please delete them. I will only ask nicely one time."

"And then?" Williams asked.

"I will have to hurt you."

"But this is going to give me such pleasure," Danny grinned, placing the phone in his pocket.

"I can't even believe you would do that to me," Steve replied.

"What – make a video?"

"Yeah, I mean after…well, you know."

"Know what? I know nothing."

Steve stared at his partner. "You don't remember?"

"Remember what? Spit it out, Superman."

"Well, what happened on the golf course. When I was hit. I mean," McGarrett shrugged, a forlorn look on his face. "Really, if you don't remember, it's no big deal. Forget I said anything."

"You didn't say anything," Danny yelled.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"WHAT?"

"Well, when I was hit by that cart. Weren't you right beside me?"

"Yeah, I turned and saw the cart and tried to get you out of the way."

"You didn't feel the push as I went down?"

"Push? What push?"

"See, it's nothing. Really. Don't even think about it."

"Steven, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I knew you were going to be hit, so I gave you a push and took the force of the golf cart. I mean, not that it matters or anything."

An expression of shock registered on Williams' face. "You mean—"

"I mean I pushed you out of the way."

"Seriously? I don't remember…"

"And you pay me back by making videos of me." McGarrett sighed and looked away, the hurt evident on his stoic face.

"Aw, man." Danny whipped the phone from his pocket. "Steve, seriously, I am so, SO sorry. Look, I'm deleting the videos right now. I swear. Look, they're gone. And to show you how sorry I am, let me go get carry out for lunch. It's late and we haven't eaten in like forever. Okay, partner? I'll just go around the corner and pick up some sandwiches." He began back-pedaling out of the office. "I'll be back soon, okay? Really, Steve, I'll make it up to you."

When the glass door closed to the offices, Steve bit his lip to keep from breaking out in a smile. But not before Chin caught it.

"McGarrett, I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?" Kono asked. "Keep Danny from getting hit by the golf cart?"

"I know that look. He didn't push Danny out of the way."

Steve looked at them, a confused expression on his face. "Did I say that? Man…all those drugs must not be all out of my system yet."

"Steve McGarrett!" Kono turned on him when she realized what he had done. "You lied to Danny so he would erase those videos."

"Did I?"

He reached into his pocket to answer his ringing phone. "Hey, Danno."

"Put the phone on speaker," Williams requested.

"Sure, what's up?"

"I just want to say that you are _**so**_ busted. You did not push me out of the way because I was a good three feet from you when you were hit. Furthermore, you don't even remember Saturday—"

"Who says?"

"I just know. Now shut up. And for the record, I did erase the videos from my phone."

"Thank you, Danny."

"I said shut up. I erased them. But not before I forwarded them to your friend, _'Pat'_."

McGarrett sat up straighter in the chair, jerking his knee in the process. "Ow, ow, ow," he hissed when Kono picked up his ice pack for what seemed to be the tenth time that morning. "You didn't."

"The hell I didn't. And it is my guess that you can look at the screen and see that Chin downloaded it as well."

Steve glared at the computer wizard who smiled, and with a gentle touch, flashed up the photo of McGarrett balancing a bottle on his nose onto the room's numerous screens.

"Chin…"

The other man shrugged and grinned at him. "Couldn't help myself, Brah."

"I'll just say one thing, guys. Payback's a bitch. Watch and wait," McGarrett warned.

"Well, I'm scared," Danny replied with a laugh. "Lunch will be back in ten. Hang tight."

Steve grabbed his phone and ended the call. "I work with a bunch of comedians," he mumbled.

"Hey, speaking of that," Chin began. "Did you hear what kind of gun killed Juan Gonzalez?"

"No, what?" McGarrett replied.

ljw:3.24.11


End file.
